


Jasmine Tea.

by Quillium



Series: Today's Special Is... [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canonical Child Abuse, Gen, Spirit Contract AU, Tea shop AU, aka the au where lu ten and iroh adopt zuko, and they all live happily ever after in iroh's tea shop, ft. a cameo from toph and aang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27159535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillium/pseuds/Quillium
Summary: Zuko knows what thin ice he’s on--knows that if he screws this up, too, if he messes up with Lu Ten and uncle, then he has nowhere else to go.He’s not going to do something as monumentally stupid as ask questions. That was what got him kicked out of his father’s home, after all.OR: Lu Ten took one look at Zuko, asked "is anyone gonna adopt that?" and didn't wait for an answer. Zuko adjusts to life with his cousin and uncle.
Relationships: Iroh & Lu Ten, Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Lu Ten & Zuko
Series: Today's Special Is... [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982449
Comments: 52
Kudos: 401





	Jasmine Tea.

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooo!!! Hope y'all are sleeping, eating, showering well! Y'all should know the drill by now: if you haven't rested 9 hours straight in the past 24 hours, stretched in the past half hour, or eaten something solid in the past 3 hours, you cannot read this fic. If you have done those things, you may proceed. 
> 
> This au is a fun lil shenanigan where bending exists but in the form of spirit contracts. Each element has spirits, so like "fire spirits" are contracted to fire benders, etc. Worldbuilding will happen over the course of the series, so if something's murky to you, rest assured it'll (hopefully) be explained later on!

**NOW**

Zuko, kneeling in the small room at the back of uncle’s tea shop, watching the pearls begin to rise to the surface.

_ A little more _ , he keeps the temperature steady, warm, and then takes away the heat when the pearls grow a bit bigger.

The sun has only just risen, but Zuko can hear uncle going through the basic  _ kata _ of firebending outside. 

To be honest, Zuko is still uncertain of how the  _ kata _ are necessary--with father, it was enough that the fire spirit was properly subjugated and bound to its owner, but uncle and Lu Ten say that firebending is not a master-servant contract but a show of respect between human and spirit.

He doesn’t  _ say _ this, of course. 

Zuko knows what thin ice he’s on--knows that if he screws this up, too, if he messes up with Lu Ten and uncle, then he has nowhere else to go.

He’s not going to do something as monumentally stupid as ask questions. That was what got him kicked out of his father’s home, after all.

But looking around, knowing that his uncle is outside and Lu Ten, who is uncontracted, likely won’t wake until noon, he thinks that perhaps it’s safe to light a small flame on the palm of his hand and whisper, “Xiang?”

In a curl of smoke and fire, the fire spirit appears, and Zuko squashes relief down. He was using heat so he  _ knows _ that Xiang was still there, as she’s the source of his fire, but not seeing her made him anxious.

He asks about the  _ kata _ in a hushed, low voice, scared that if he speaks too loudly, someone might hear and be angry.

The spirits’ voices are never human, Xiang’s sounds like the flutter of book pages being flipped as she answers. 

_ It’s about respect _ , she teaches him equally quietly, knowing as well as he does the relative safety in silence,  _ a way of being honourable. A dance between companions. _

“Do you want to do it?”

_ Yes. _ The feeling of warmth in his scar, and Zuko knows its her way of comfort but his heart spikes all the same.  _ Sorry. Once you’re better _ .

Zuko is never good enough.

_ Better at what? _

He’s scared to ask. Xiang has been the only one who has never demanded more--the only one who took Zuko as he is.

(Sure, Uncle and Lu Ten  _ seem _ like they accept Zuko as is, but he’s not stupid and twelve. He knows better. There’s a catch. There  _ has _ to be. He just has to find it--)

The pearls are big enough, any more and it might begin to boil, so Zuko takes away the heat and pulls out the tea leaves. 

Pouring from the kettle into the teapot, over the tea leaves, watching the steam wisp in the air and the leaves curl into themselves, Zuko thinks he might be able to see how one might find tea making calming.

And yes, Zuko knows that he’s not going to be kicked out for making bad tea, but--

He needs to do this right. This, at least. He wants to do  _ something _ right. Something. Anything.

The door opens, his uncle finished his katas,  _ why didn’t Zuko notice _ , and Zuko is very still as he continues to pour to tea. 

Maybe if he acts dumb, uncle won’t mind.

He thinks uncle is different.

But he doesn’t know for sure.

“Nephew,” his uncle kneels down next to him, and Zuko thinks,  _ another way he’s different _ , because his father would never have lowered himself like that or dirtied his knees. “Making tea for yourself?”

“I thought--”  _ Don’t stutter don’t stutter don’t-- _ “I thought you might like some once you came back in. It’s not cold, though, it’s hot, so I guess it would be ridiculous--”

_ Shut up shutup shutupshutup-- _

Why does Zuko have to  _ talk _ . Why does he--

Why can’t he even  _ talk _ right.

His uncle pats Zuko’s knee, as though he were a child, beaming. “Thank you, nephew. Jasmine is my favourite, and I love sitting down with a cup of tea after my  _ katas _ are done.”

Zuko hopes his relief is not so apparent as to be easily seen by his uncle. “It’s no problem,” he tries not to sound overeager and stupid, “Would you like me to brew a cup for you every morning?”

“If that would make you happy,” his uncle hums, “There is no need to force yourself out of obligation, but I do enjoy tea and would be grateful if you did so. Once you’re healed more, if you would like to learn the  _ kata _ from me, I would appreciate your joining me.”

_ There is no need to force yourself _ ? Zuko isn’t stupid. That means  _ do it, or you’re ungrateful and lazy _ .

“It’s no problem.” He wishes he were like Ty Lee, who can so easily smile even when she’s uncomfortable or scared. “If you have a preference, you can tell me or leave a note or something.”

He swallows down the instinctive  _ if it’s not too much trouble _ . Zuko can’t appear hesitant or weak--he wants to be treated kindly so long as he can, before uncle learns how useless he really is.

If he appears strong--useful--like Azula, or Lu Ten--maybe it’ll be okay. Maybe--

( _ You can’t hide what you are forever. _ )

His uncle smiles at him and reaches out--

Zuko keeps himself still.

(His father smiled when he burned half of Zuko’s face off.)

\--and pats Zuko’s head. Gently, once more as though Zuko were still young.

“Thank you,” Zuko whispers.

_ Thank you? THANK YOU?  _ Of all the things to say--

His uncle is still smiling as he sips the tea. “It is no burden, nephew.”

_ It is _ . Zuko thinks.  _ It must be. There must be some part of me that makes it difficult, that makes me unworthy, that-- _

If this were Ty Lee, she would say something like  _ right,  _ then laugh and smile and brush it off.

But Zuko isn’t Ty Lee, Zuko is hard to love, so Zuko shrugs, says roughly, “I have to go,” and walks out of the tea shop.

Uncle and Lu Ten’s tea shop, the  _ Jasmine Dragon _ , is an old wooden building in a small town by the ocean.

Zuko still hasn’t gotten used to the town, the constant sound of waves, people walking and talking, the lack of airplanes overhead or cars stuck in eternal traffic. 

It’s quieter than he’s used to, and at times, more overwhelming. The rules, here, are undefined, where at home, he knew what to do.

_ Stay quiet, stay invisible, work hard, don’t disturb dad if the door is closed or he’s on the phone or was on the phone NEVER disagree with him-- _

He hopes uncle won’t get mad at him for leaving, once he returns.

He hopes uncle will let him return.

It  _ should _ be okay--father never cared when Zuko left, so long as he wasn’t talking to him or didn’t need him.

Father rarely needed Zuko, and Zuko, though he may be slow, wasn’t stupid enough to do more than apologize and try to breathe very, very quietly when father talked to him.

He toes off his slippers by the entrance because he shouldn’t get them dirty, curses himself for not putting on his shoes, and decides it’s not worth risking uncle’s ire to go back inside only to put on shoes and leave again.

The bell over the door is a dead giveaway, after all. Zuko can’t sneak in (or out).

It’s fine. The cobble stone is cool and mostly smooth between his feet, and where it is uneven, it does not break skin, so Zuko really doesn’t mind.

The air is cool when he walks towards the ocean, calling Xiang by his side. She appears with the smell of hot chocolate and the sound of sparks popping off a wooden log.

Zuko thinks he must be desperate when he summons the flame, and stupid when he puts his hand in the ocean as soon as it appears.

He wanted some part of him to see that nothing has changed.

The fear jumping in his throat as soon as he sees the fire tells him that it was only childish wishing.

__

**BEFORE**

“You weren’t wrong,” Lu Ten had told him, voice seething, cradling Zuko’s face in his hands in the aftermath. Zuko is in the backseat, eyes unfocused, and Lu Ten looks angry.

Zuko doesn’t know what to do. Lu Ten is angry and he’s never  _ been _ angry with Zuko before, what does he do to stop this, what will Lu Ten do when he’s angry, he knows Lu Ten has no contract (natural  _ or _ forced) but he  _ knows _ he saw Lu Ten use fire near his father earlier--

His head is pounding.

(Was. His head  _ was _ pounding. This was in the past. The past--)

“You weren’t,” Lu Ten repeats, and it sounds more fragile, now, pleading. “Zuko, your dad--he shouldn’t have done that. He was  _ wrong _ . And I know he’s too damn rich to get arrested or even have a mark on his record and I know you want to leave it be but it was wrong, you have to know that.”

Zuko was wrong. He doesn’t know why Lu Ten’s talking like this. He should trust his dad, he should believe his dad, he should  _ never question his father-- _

“You’re a good kid,” Lu Ten whispers into Zuko’s hair, laying a kiss on his hairline. “You deserve better. I’m going to take you to dad-- _ my _ dad--and you’ll live with us and-- _ god _ , Zuko, I swear you’ll never have to face that bas--your dad again.”

Zuko shrugs, but Lu Ten’s hands are warm on his shoulders and he knows it’s  _ wrong  _ but Zuko feels safer in Uncle’s beat up van than he had felt inside his father’s office, kneeling in front of broken glass, and--

_ I was wrong _ . He had to be. Because if he  _ wasn’t _ \--

__

**NOW**

Zuko wants to work straightaway. 

From the expression on his face, desperate and confused, Lu Ten is pretty sure it’s because of something that Zuko’s asshole dad did. Probably thinks he needs to work to stay here.

He tries not to show how angry he is, but Lu Ten must fail somewhere, because Zuko’s face shutters and blanks over, like he’s trying not to show how scared he is.

(His little cousin’s hands are shaking.)

“We want you to focus on healing right now,” Lu Ten says, scrambles to find a way to phrase things so that Zuko isn’t scared, so that Zuko doesn’t feel like it’s a trick or a trap. “Once your scar is completely better and you’ve had time to adjust, then if you still want to work, that would be appreciated and we can employ you.”

Zuko’s face is still blank.

Lu Ten hates Uncle Ozai. He really does.

“I get it,” he smiles, winks, plays dumb because he doesn’t know what the right thing to say is, because Lu Ten is useless when it comes to comfort. “You want to earn some pocket cash, right? Well, of course, dad and I have got you covered for the basics--clothes, food, the rare occasion where you need a new phone--but I get it. Teenagers like to have a little extra, right?”

Zuko looks even  _ more _ scared. His expression slips for a moment and Lu Ten’s heart pounds a mile a minute.

What did he say wrong?

“Yes,” Zuko says, staring at his hands, carefully not looking at Lu Ten. “It’s good to have a little extra.”

Did Zuko interpret this as ‘in case you’re kicked out and homeless’?

Lu Ten wants his dad. His dad is good at this--at comfort and kindness and gentleness. Lu Ten… not so much.

“Zuko,” he bumps his shoulder against Zuko’s, careful to move slow so that Zuko sees him coming. 

It’s a mistake, maybe, because Zuko flinches and Lu Ten almost doesn’t carry through with the maybe-a-dumb-idea shoulder bump. He carries through because it’d be weird if he didn’t, and he can’t play dumb if he doesn’t carry through.

He pretends he didn’t see the flinch. 

(Does that make him a terrible person? Does that make him awful? He should mention it, right? Comfort Zuko somehow. But he doesn’t know  _ how _ , Lu Ten doesn’t know--)

“My dad and I--we want you around, okay? We like--we like you. Stuff like getting kicked out--getting hurt--you don’t have to be scared of that, here.”

Zuko’s expression twitches, steam curls from his fists. He doesn’t seem to notice, though.

“And if we do something that scares you--if we raise our voice or if I even close my door too loudly before doing my homework--it’s okay to talk to us about it, and tell us that we can’t do it anymore. I know it’s scary but we want to make our home feel safe for you. And we might screw up sometimes but I-- _ we _ ’ll try our best. So please give us a chance.”

There’s the smell of burning and Zuko pulls his hand up, smoke coming from his knuckles. There’s a small, blackened hole in the blanket he was clutching.

Zuko stares at Lu Ten expectantly.

He’s waiting, Lu Ten realizes. Waiting for Lu Ten to prove that he was lying, pretending; that every word out of his mouth right now was just lip service, none of it true.

Well.

He’ll just have to prove his little cousin wrong, now won’t he?

“Are you hurt?” Lu Ten asks quietly.

Zuko shakes his head.

“Can I see your hand?”

Zuko inches away but holds out the hand. When Lu Ten gently holds his wrist, he tenses. Lu Ten lets go of the wrist and instead puts his hand under Zuko’s, so that he can pull away at any time.

The hand is unharmed, thankfully. Lu Ten says as much, careful to smile when he says so.  _ It’s a good thing _ , he tries to communicate.  _ I like you unharmed _ .

He’s pretty sure the attempt at signalling fails. He tried.

“We’ll get you another blanket,” Lu Ten says quietly. “Am I stressing you out? Do you want me to leave?”

Zuko looks at him like he’s running through all the calculations in his head, trying to figure out what Lu Ten wants.

Well. 

None of that nonsense, please.

“I want to do whatever makes you comfortable. I like being with you, but I don’t like making you upset. So tell me what you want.”

Zuko shrugs, looks out the window, and mutters, “I don’t care. Do whatever you want.”

Lu Ten smiles, says, “I’ll get my accounting homework,” and spends the rest of the afternoon by Zuko, who eventually curls up with a book.

Quietly, beside each other, they read in the fading sunlight.

Lu Ten hopes that by the end of it, Zuko is comfortable.

__

**BEFORE**

Lu Ten’s grip on the steering wheel is tight. His head runs in circles, circles, circles.

_ When could I have noticed? _

_ What could I have done? _

_ Where should I have been-- _

Zuko looks small in the backseat. 

“I’m sorry,” Lu Ten says quietly, when they pull up to a red light. He’s not used to driving in the city--usually the only drives he and his dad makes are the ones to the farmers’ and suppliers’ farms outside town, on country roads.

Zuko is silent.

What is Lu Ten apologizing for? Taking him away from Uncle Ozai, who held up a broken bottle over Zuko’s head and--

He hates this so much.

Is he apologizing for not seeing the signs sooner? For not sticking around  _ to _ see the signs?

_ Azula-- _

He called her. When she answered, and he asked if she wanted to leave, she had laughed.

( _ “Go to a little backwater town full of nobodies who never amounted to anything with you and Zuzu? Now why would I ever do that?” _

_ And his chest  _ ached _ because she was just a  _ kid _ , she was so young, of course she didn’t know, yet, how  _ wrong _ it was, and he asked, “Where are you?” _

_ “Hong Kong. Are you taking Zuzu with you? Finally, we got rid of him. He’s so annoying.” _

_ He doesn’t want to leave her alone. But Hong Kong is too far for him to do anything immediately. “Hey, ‘zula, know that I love you, okay, kiddo? Um--I miss you. When are you coming back?” _

_ “Why do you care?” _

_ “Maybe I want to see you.” _

_ Silence for a moment, and then she sneers. “Why would you?” _

_ “Because I love you. We’re family.” _

_ She sneers, but tells him the time and date _ .)

What does he do? What is there  _ for _ Lu Ten to do?

“We’ll be okay, kiddo,” he says, and tries not to show that he’s trying to reassure himself as much as Zuko.

__

**NOW**

Uncle cooks.

Zuko isn’t sure why--maybe it’s because his father never cooked, they always had personal chefs for that--but the image is jarring.

The first time that he and Lu Ten are called down for dinner, after an afternoon spent reading with Lu Ten, Zuko find himself staring at the bowls of rice on the small dining table by the kitchen.

“I can help with dinner next time,” he says, hesitantly, because that’s useful, right?

Even if father always said it was beneath him.

Uncle smiles at him, and Zuko tries not to bristle because father always says it’s unbecoming and rude and  _ disrespectful _ \--

“That’s a very kind offer, Zuko, I just might take you up on it someday.”

Lu Ten grins and ruffles his hair. “You’re a good kid, Zuko.”

Zuko ducks his head and bites his lip.

(He misses the smiles that Lu Ten and Iroh share.)

Dinner with his father always felt like panicked, stilted affairs where Zuko both desperately tried to prove he was worth looking at and also trying desperately not to bring any attention to himself and his failures.

Dinner with Iroh and Lu Ten feels… he doesn’t know how it feels yet, really.

But it’s… not terrible, maybe.

__

He’s begun to form an almost-routine. 

Make tea in the morning to share with Uncle, go out for a walk around town with Xiang, return by lunch (which is really Lu Ten’s breakfast), eat together, and then they branch off to do their day’s work. 

Uncle takes the morning shift at the tea shop, Lu Ten takes the afternoon and evening shift. 

They reassure Zuko that once he joins, he’ll be able to choose when he wants to work. It’s important, somehow, this fact, but Zuko has yet to fully grasp  _ why _ .

Horribly, unconsciously, Zuko becomes more comfortable.

(And with this knowledge, of course, comes anxiety that hits him like a truck.)

Evening, the clouds pink against a golden sky, the chatter of children outside. Lu Ten perches on the seat by the window, Zuko reads  _ A History of Fire _ on the bed.

Lu Ten glances out, watching some kids play soccer on the cobblestone below, and asks, “Do you want to meet some other kids your age sometime?”

Zuko freezes.

Lu Ten backtracks. “There’s no pressure of course--only if you want--I just know it can sometimes get lonely--”

“No,” Zuko snaps. “I’m not lonely and I don’t need friends.”

“Of course, that’s fine.” 

Lu Ten stands and walks forward and something must disconnect because the next thing that Zuko knows, he’s standing up and the book is put on the dresser and he says, “I’m leaving.”

“Wait, Zuko--”

He storms out and slams the door behind him.

This is bad.

He’s getting complacent. Comfortable. He--this is temporary, right? Uncle and Lu Ten are just putting up with him until he’s an adult and then he’ll have to get a job and--

_ Friends _ ?

He almost wanted it for a moment there. Could almost imagine it for a second. But he can’t--there’s no  _ way _ \--

Good thing he had enough sense to refuse. But he had to leave, before he changed his mind, before he got stupid and--

Zuko leaves the tea shop and goes to the ocean.

There’s already someone there. A girl who twists her fingers and has the water follow them--someone who’s contracted with a water-spirit. It’s far more elegant than what Zuko’s used to.

It was rare, back home--back in the  _ city _ , where he  _ used _ to live--to see a water-contractor. His father’s company dealt mostly with military men who wanted something powerful, something that hurt others without risking themselves too much.

Water was too dangerous for a forced contract. After all, floods spared no one. Fire could be escaped. A tsunami could not.

Zuko had been so excited to get a fire contract. He could  _ finally _ be useful to his father in some way, surely. He could help somehow,  _ surely _ .

The contract was his undoing, in the end. Or his stupidity.

It doesn’t matter.

Zuko was lucky to be born, and Ozai was unlucky to have a son.

That was all there was to it.

He leaves behind the ocean and the salt and the water-bender, off to find somewhere he could be comfortable and  _ alone _ .

This is temporary. All good things are. He just--he can’t forget that. One day, this will all go away, and if Zuko stupidly gets attached, it’ll be his own fault, for not knowing better. For not  _ being _ better.

He just to work hard and get by. That’s all he needs.

__

The day is turning dark outside and Lu Ten pops his head into the kitchen, watching his dad cook noodles with bok choy and bell peppers.

“Zuko’s still not back yet.” Usually Zuko returns by mealtimes but he’s cutting it close today. “Should I go look for him?”

“Give him some more time,” his dad pulls out a pepper and pops it into his mouth. “I’m so good at this.”

“ _ Dad _ .”

“You can look for him if you feel it is necessary, but I think we can wait a few more minutes. If he’s still not back by then, I’ll head out to look for him and you keep watch over the shop.”

“Aang and Toph are the only ones here anyway.”

“What if more customers come?”

“Nobody comes to a tea shop at dinnertime, dad.”

“The world always has a way of surprising you in mundane ways. It’s not good to shirk responsibility.”

Lu Ten pouts, and grudgingly says, “The noodles look really good,  _ ba _ .”

His dad beams and says, “I added lots of sesame oil and soy sauce so it’s sure to be delicious.”

Lu Ten bites down a smile and ducks back out into the shop to ask the kids if they want any more tea.

Aang, who’s half bent over Lu Ten’s research paper, squints up and says, “Oh, well, it’s almost dinner-time so it’s okay.”

“You can just eat with us,” Lu Ten hums. “Dad’s making noodles. They have sweet peppers in them--I know you love those.”

“What about your cousin?” Toph raises an eyebrow. “I thought we had to stay away a bit so we didn’t spook him.”

Lu Ten hesitates, and then says, “It’s been a few days and he hasn’t met anyone else. I’m a bit worried about him getting lonely, to be honest.”

Toph makes a grumbly noise. “If I don’t like him, then I don’t like him.”

Lu Ten ruffles her hair. “You’re a good kid, beneath it all.”

Toph scrunches up her nose but doesn’t argue further.

Half an hour passes, and Zuko has yet to return.

__

There is a set of mountains beyond the edge of town that stretch beyond the horizon and lazily point toward the sky, and Zuko finds himself at the base of one.

It’s the sort of mountain that existed in those stories that his mom told him as a kid, back when dragons were the only creatures to wield fire and the spirits didn’t form contracts.

Part of Zuko thinks the world would be easier, without spirits and contracts and the whole mess.

Another part of him thinks it would have been the same, except he would have been alone when he was thrown away, more lonely and angry than anything else.

Xiang and the smell of smoke had been comforting far before the golden flash of fire became terrifying, and part of him is bitter that his father had to do that.

(All of him is bitter. But what good is that bitterness? It was Zuko’s own fault, wasn’t it? Why be angry at a fire when you were the one to light to match?

It’s always Zuko who’s lacking. Zuko, who’s incompetent. He’s--)

The wind in town had carried the water’s taste of salt, but here, at the base of the mountain, it’s still. The forest and mountains block any winds and leave this area peacefully still.

“Do you like it here?” he asks Xiang.

_ Do you? _ she asks, and the question lingers like a mint when you have a cold.

Zuko imagines it taking hours for someone to find him here. He imagines the world spinning on and on, and Zuko, here, still.

“I think so,” he murmurs, finding an odd sense of comfort in the isolation.

Xiang crackles, golden against the bright blue sky. Zuko looks up, inhales, listens to the rustling of the leaves of the forest, and thinks about staying here a bit longer, of hiding from the world one second more.

“Let’s head back,” he sighs, and steps back into the forest.

__

There is a tiny child. Holding Zuko’s hand. Dragging him back to the tea shop.

Let him. Process.

Okay. On second look, the child is not actually that tiny. In fact, the child might possibly not even be a child but a short, tiny teenager. 

That would explain the attitude…? Maybe. Zuko doesn’t know. He doesn’t work with children that often--the closest was Azula and it has been a long time since Azula and Zuko have been in contact with each other.

Father said that Zuko weakened Azula, and Azula protested only at the beginning, before she understood.

(It doesn’t… it doesn’t  _ hurt _ but…

Maybe it does. But Zuko will never, ever admit it to himself.

_ This is for the best. She should know it now, rather than later. _ )

The tiny child is grumbling. “I’m  _ hungry _ , you jerk. Have you never heard of getting home in time for dinner? Curfew?”

“What?” Zuko asks, baffled. “Did you mistake me for someone else?”

“Stranger, not from around town, fire contractor, wearing Lu Ten’s boots? Definitely not.”

“How did you know these were Lu Ten’s?”

She sniffs. “I made them. You see those awesome metal designs on the sole that you look at and think  _ aw gee these are so beautiful I wonder how anyone could possibly make them _ ? I bent those.”

Zuko had, in fact, thought that, but her verbalizing it embarrasses him and he snaps, “I didn’t think that. They’re not  _ that _ good looking.”

“Well, gee,” she waves a hand over her face, “I can’t tell.”

Oh no, she’s  _ blind _ .

“I am  _ so _ sorry--”

“Oh, shut up. I get enough of that nonsense already, please don’t be so annoying. Just be a little less annoying. For my sake.”

Zuko never manages it for long, but he knows how to be less annoying, so he shuts up and quietly follows and matches her pace and does not complain.

Ten seconds in, she says, “I take it back, go back to being whiny. Your heartbeat’s going like crazy and this is somehow worse.”

“I’m sorry,” Zuko mumbles, miserable.

“Yeah, well, you should be, just probably not for the reason you think.”

It’s very hard to be scared of a ten year old looking child, so Zuko asks, “Why  _ should _ I be?”

“Because I am possibly one of the most powerful people in this world.”

“I think most kids say that.”

“I’m not a kid, excuse you.”

“Oh, sorry. Uh--”

“Shut up. Not a  _ word _ .”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Oh, I kinda like that attitude. Keep doing it.”

“I’m not here for your amusement!”

“Hey, stop.” They stop in the middle of the road. In the middle of a busy street market. Like. The  _ very _ middle. Not the side or anything, smack dab in the middle. “Bend down.”

Something compels Zuko to bend down.

She pats his head.

???

_???? _

What.

“Ah?”

“There, there,” the child says in what is possible the most monotone tone that Zuko has ever heard anyone speak with.

“ _ What _ ?”

“Okay, pats distributed. Straighten up, march, you’re wasting daylight.”

“You were the one who told me to stop?”

“And now I’m telling you to  _ march _ but I don’t see you doing that.”

Just to aggravate her, Zuko picks up the small child, throws her over his shoulder, and proceeds to march.

“What-- _ what are you doing? _ ”

“Marching.”

“Put me down right  _ now _ !”

“What, no please?”

And that’s how Zuko finds himself fully encased, chin to toe, in cobblestone from the street market.

__

“I see you’ve met Toph,” is the first thing out of Lu Ten’s mouth when Zuko walks into the tea shop, pebbles still falling out from his shirt.

“Hi, Zuko. Nice to see you, Zuko. So sorry for sending a murderous eight year old after you, Zuko.”

“I’m thirteen.”

“So sorry, it’s hard to tell when you look five.”

Zuko is encased in the metal from the doorway, this time.

“You’re  _ dead _ !” he yells, “Let me out of here  _ right now _ or I  _ swear on my contract-- _ ”

“Um,” another small child appears. The doorway returns to being a doorway, and Zuko returns to having mobility. “Is this a bad time to introduce myself or--” he meets Zuko’s eyes and gulps. “Because I can return later. At a better time. One when you’re feeling less. Yeah. Yeah.”

Zuko inhales deeply. Exhales sharply through his mouth.

(Later, he’ll panic about how he had an outburst in front of Lu Ten. In the  _ tea shop _ . Later, he’ll regret screaming. Later, he’ll drown in all his inadequacies. For now--)

“It’s nice to meet you,” he makes eye contact, because he’s read in all the books that it’s a sign of respect between equals. He thinks. It’s hard to tell. It  _ feels _ mostly awkward.

(Father never liked eye contact. He said it was disrespectful. But he also hated when Zuko avoided eye contact--that too, was disrespectful.

Everything Zuko did was disrespectful, because his existence was a mistake on the universe’s part.)

“Eep,” the new small child who  _ seems _ nicer than Toph, who is a Menace, says.

“I’m Zuko. I’m sorry to have forced your friend--” he can’t resist glaring at Toph, who, though unable to see it, gives it back as good as she gets.  _ Somehow _ . She just knows when to glare. “--to look for me, I’m sure it was an inconvenience.”

“Oh, no, not at all!” the small child, who has  _ tattoos _ beneath his hood (is this legal), beams. “Y’know, one time, I was trying to chase this fish-monkey that I saw because it stole my banana, but I didn’t account for how  _ deep _ underwater they can actually go so I tried to make an air bubble when I dove in after it but the air bubble almost kinda ran out haha so I ended up--”

Oh, the second small child is one of those people. The ones who talk and. Smile. And stuff. 

Zuko likes those people a lot, but he’s always been no good at dealing with them.

“That’s great,” he says, brusquely. “I’m heading to my room.”

“Oh, but you gotta eat dinner! We’re starving. We were waiting for you. For like an hour. Not that I mind! At all! But also I’m hungry and--”

“You can eat without me.”

Uncle appears behind the smiley child. “Nephew, why don’t you come eat with us?”

Cold dread settles in the pit of Zuko’s stomach. He knows those kinds of questions, the kind that you can’t say  _ no _ to and where you  _ know _ you’re in trouble.

“Okay,” he mumbles, “Of course. Do you need help setting the table?”

__

Zuko had been quiet throughout dinner. Iroh had seen his face go white when he was asked to stay for dinner, and his expression stayed frozen that way for the rest of the evening. 

Toph had tried to goad him into life a few times, but Zuko responded lifelessly. Toph, stubborn and young and easily annoyed, scowled and pulled Aang away as soon as they finished eating, ignoring Aang’s protests that they should help with clean-up.

Iroh sent Lu Ten off to his room, and asked Zuko to stay and help with cleaning up and washing the dishes.

Zuko’s hands shake as he moves the dry plates from the dish rack to the cabinets.

“I’m not angry,” Iroh says quietly. He looks at his hands, at the dish soap, at the bowls that need to be cleaned, because he doesn’t think he can bear to look at Zuko. “If you disagree with me--whether in private or public, either or… that’s okay. You won’t be punished for it.”

Zuko is silent.

“If I ask you to do something--you can say no. You can always say no. And there won’t be a punishment for that.”

The sound of running water from the sink.

“That’s all. You don’t have to help me--I can finish myself.”

Zuko flees, and Iroh continues to wash his dishes.

__

Does Uncle think that Zuko’s  _ stupid _ ? Does he honestly think that Zuko would believe that nonsense?

_ You won’t be punished _ ? Zuko’s heard that before. A thousand times, a thousand ways, it doesn’t matter. Either way, it’s a trick. A dirty, cruel trick, and Zuko’s not stupid enough to fall for it.

He just has to--he just needs to figure out the  _ rules _ . The unspoken ones. And he needs to be a fast learner, who understands the spoken rules perfectly after hearing them only once. He can do that. He has to.

What’s Uncle trying to do? Maybe he is trying. Maybe he genuinely believes that. 

Maybe he just doesn’t understand how monumentally useless Zuko is, and thinks that Zuko can do well without being punished.

Yeah, that would make sense. 

But Zuko’s been here a while now and Uncle--

Zuko knows. Once he relaxes, everything will fall apart. If he gets comfortable, he’ll be reminded why that’s not a good idea.

He just has to  _ not be stupid _ .

An easy task.

(For anyone who’s not Zuko.)

__

Lu Ten is horribly, painfully, easy to trust.

Maybe it’s because he shielded Zuko from his father, maybe it’s because he drove the whole way from city to town talking to Zuko about how things would be okay, how he would never be hurt again.

Maybe it’s because Zuko still remembers being five and stupid and Lu Ten telling him fairy tales in a hushed voice in the dead of night when they were both supposed to be asleep.

Maybe it’s because of this, right now, Lu Ten sitting by Zuko’s bedside, holding Zuko’s face against his shoulder, hands warm and steady on Zuko’s back as he whispers, “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

It’s not. It’s  _ not okay _ .

Lu Ten’s presence shouldn’t be enough to make Zuko feel this calm but it  _ does _ , and he doesn’t know--

It can’t be a good thing, he knows, because nothing good lasts. If Zuko wants something, likes something, that means that it’s temporary, because the only constant is pain.

But it doesn’t feel like a bad thing, and Zuko thinks, even though this can’t last--one way or another, either Lu Ten will vanish from his life like mom and Azula’s love or he’ll realize that Zuko was useless like his father--he can’t bring himself to pull away.

Pathetic, probably.

He wraps his arms around Lu Ten and holds tight, childishly, like if he doesn’t, Lu Ten will vanish.

(Lu Ten will vanish either way. Somehow. This kind, soft version of Lu Ten can’t  _ last _ \--)

“Breathe,” Lu Ten says.

_ I’m trying _ , Zuko thinks.  _ I’m trying. _

His breath hitches, instead, and his fists tighten on Lu Ten’s back.

__

Once, once, Zuko had asked Lu Ten what kind of punishments his dad gave.

Lu Ten, horrified, didn’t verbally respond. He stared and tried to formulate an answer, and Zuko immediately shut down.

_ Nevermind _ , he said, face pale as a sheet as he looked away.  _ I’ll find out on my own _ .

Lu Ten couldn’t speak. He blames himself for that--he really does.

__

“We won’t punish you here,” Lu Ten says it, over and over, trying to chase the first conversation out of Zuko’s mind.

Zuko must hear something different each time, though, something that Lu Ten  _ isn’t saying _ , because he says, almost as though speaking to a child, “Okay,” and stares blankly at his feet, like he’s still waiting for something that will never come.

__

Zuko gets angrier as the days go by. He screams and stomps, and Lu Ten knows that he’s waiting for the gloves to drop.

And they  _ won’t _ , but Zuko refuses to believe that. Or maybe he’s scared of believing it, and being proved wrong for that trust.

Lu Ten can’t blame him, but he doesn’t know what to do. His dad is just being patient, as quiet and gentle as ever. Lu Ten doesn’t know  _ how _ .

“Zuko is honourable,” his dad tells Lu Ten over a late-night cup of tea, “he’s testing his boundaries, but once he is certain of them, he will calm down.”

“I want him to feel safe,” Lu Ten says. 

“He will,” his dad’s hand is warm, as always. “Just wait a little longer.”

So Lu Ten tries to be patient.  _ Just wait a little longer _ .

__

Lu Ten approaches Zuko from the left, and Zuko starts badly enough that he drops the plate of food he’s holding. 

Zuko stares mutely at the ground, and his hands shake.

(They always shake, but he never moves them. He wouldn’t defend himself with them. Lu Ten knows that, and hates that.

Zuko will scream, and shout, and if you raise a hand to him, he’ll be a statue.)

“I’ll clean it up,” Lu Ten says. He puts a hand around Zuko’s, squeezes it, and leads his cousin out of the kitchen so that he doesn’t hurt himself.

“I’ll clean it,” Zuko says. His voice is gravel, and his face is carefully blank, as though it were carved from jade. “I’m sorry.”

“It was an accident.”

Zuko hums, as though to ask  _ what difference does that make _ , and goes to get the broom.

Lu Ten follows him. “I told you that I’ll clean it. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not--I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“It’s fine, Lu Ten.”

“It’s not fine if you’re hurt, Zuko--”

“I’m not a kid!” Zuko snaps. “I can clean up my own mess, I don’t need to be coddled!”

And Lu Ten isn’t his dad. 

He isn’t patient, he never considered himself to be a kind, gentle person, and he snaps, too. 

“Then stop acting like we’re going to decide to burn your other eye off when you breathe wrong! What’s wrong with having someone clean up your mess for you? What’s wrong with being coddled? Isn’t it fine to be a kid? Isn’t that exactly what you are?”

Zuko glares at him, and then shouts, “Just give me some stupid rules! Tell me what to do! How am I supposed to deal with this when I don’t know where the limit is, huh? How am I supposed to not be scared when you’ve never punished me, huh?”

Zuko stomps over to the kitchen and starts sweeping the fallen food and glass shards.

“You’re acting all nice but I’m not stupid! I wasn’t born yesterday! Nobody wants to clean up someone else’s messes and I’m not dumb, I know that kids like me are only good for making messes!”

And Lu Ten is just reminded of all the ways he’s inadequate. Of all the right words that he doesn’t know how to say. He takes the broom away from Zuko and says tiredly, “I’m cleaning up this mess. Get out of the kitchen.”

Zuko gets out of the kitchen. He stands at the door of it, though, hovering.

“I want you to live comfortably,” Lu Ten looks at the broom, focuses on cleaning, because he can’t bear to look at Zuko, ashamed for having raised his voice earlier. “I want this to be normal for you. I want punishments to become a distant thing of the past. I want to talk to you normally, I want to eat with you normally, I want to do things with you without you being worried about making a mistake. I want you to be a normal kid.”

“Then tell me how,” Zuko whispers, “and I’ll do it.”

“I don’t want you to change yourself. There’s no right formula for you to follow. I want you to live knowing that no matter how much you screw up, dad and I will be here to take care of you, and clean up any messes that you can’t, or just don’t want to handle. That’s all.”

“I mess  _ everything _ up. You don’t want to--maybe you  _ think _ you want to but you won’t. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day you won’t want to. And then what am I supposed to do?”

“I’ll be here so long as I’m able to be,” Lu Ten answers quietly. “I want you to depend on me. Maybe it’s selfish, but that’s what I want. I want you to trust me to keep you safe.”

“Don’t you want me to be  _ better _ ? To stop talking as much and be calm and more elegant and polite or--”

“I like you. You aren’t a character in a story who I can change as I will. You’re a human being. If I can’t accept you, that’s my fault, not yours.”

Zuko steps into the kitchen.

Lu Ten makes eye contact. “Please let me clean this up.”

Zuko holds the eye contact for a second, two seconds, and then he steps back, and asks, “What if I don’t trust you?”

“Then you don’t. I don’t expect you to. But that’ll be my goal right now--I hope that one day, you can trust me. And dad, too. Both of us. I want to be family, I want to be dependable.”

“ _ Family _ isn’t dependable.”

“This one will try its best to be, if you’ll give it a chance. I can’t promise perfection but--I’ll try. And I won’t stop trying, even if I screw up and even if I have to work hard at it.”

Lu Ten finishes sweeping the floor, and throws away all the glass and food into the trash bin. He grabs a kitchen towel on the ground and wipes the last bits remaining.

“I fail at everything, no matter how hard I try,” Zuko’s voice is small. “So I probably won’t be a good cousin or nephew.”

“That’s okay,” Lu Ten mumbles. “There’s no such thing as perfect… just giving it a shot is more than enough.”

“I can give it a shot.”

“Thank you.”

Zuko shrugs. Lu Ten finishes cleaning up, and the two of them eat lunch.

**Author's Note:**

> If you ignored me in the beginning notes, I ask that you now go do the things!!! Don't even exit this page, just close your device and go take care of yourself! Show yourself some love. Hopefully, the next fic in this series will be Lu Ten or Aang centric, but we'll see where the winds take us all. Don't forget to treat yourself and others kindly, and eat some vegetables every day, please.


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